


wild world : a collection of bad poetry and short stories

by tooweirdtolivetoogaytodie



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Death, Depression, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Poetry, References to Depression, Short
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26385805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tooweirdtolivetoogaytodie/pseuds/tooweirdtolivetoogaytodie
Summary: a collection of poetry, short stories, and drabbles i've written over the years with no particular fandom.general cw; major themes of depression and mental illness.





	1. any other name

**Author's Note:**

> a submission for a pride challenge on amino back in june! the challenge was to write a pride piece with an antagonistic character, and i took quite a different turn with it. feedback is appreciated!
> 
> cw: implied murder/death, mentions of fire, metaphorical mention of shooting, shame
> 
> (if i've missed any warnings please comment !!)

**any other name.**

you think i wouldn't love you

by any other name?

your skin, it glows, kissed by the moon -

our hearts, they beat the same. 

  
  
  


you think i wouldn't love you

by any other name?

your eyelids flutter in morning grey,

my heart, it sparks aflame.

  
  
  


a rising shame,

bitter monsoon;

your holy dress,

lit by the moon.

you stand, confess - 

your heart, a dame.

you wait for me

to take aim, shoot.

  
  
  


you think i wouldn't love you

by any other name

and your hands, they tremble -

your legs, they shake -

and i wish to take your pain.

  
  
  


you think i wouldn't love you

by any other name?

so blue, so cold, so beautiful

you're mine, you're still the same. 

  
  
  


i'll take your hand,

we'll rise to fame

the greatest pair

this side of thames -

  
  
  


but i fear, my dear

it's a bit too late -

your shoulders shudder,

your knees, they quake.

a fire blazed,

walls licked by flames -

and the house, it shuddered, 

and the house, it quaked.

  
  
  


and my beating heart,

my cheating heart,

my freezing heart,

it aches -

and yours, so still;

you fit the bill,

but you,

sat by the windowsill;

you, your soul, 

my simple thrill -

i took the shot, 

i made the kill,

i freed you of your shame.

  
  
  


you think i wouldn't love you

by any other name.

dear, i did this for i love you

regardless of your name.


	2. the stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another piece for an amino challenge! this time it was a flash challenge, so this hasn't been edited too much (i'm still proud of it, though). the prompt was: 
> 
> “i woke up to hear knocking on the glass again. at first i thought it was the window until i heard it come from the mirror again.”
> 
> cw; implications of self-harm, brief alcohol mention, brief death mention, fear regarding mirrors, mention of abandonment, depression, implied self-hatred
> 
> if you see a richard siken reference no you dont 💙

  


  


  


**the stranger.**

  


  


i woke up

on the bathroom floor again.

  


  


i know what you'd have

said if you had seen me.

  


  


my clothes were rumpled

and i smelled like death,

my head still pounding 

from last night's tequila.

  


  


something wasn't right.

my ears were ringing.

but i thought i heard a noise

above the countertop.

an incessant tapping,

a quiet whimper.

and delicately i heard

the gentlest of whispers.

  


  


_let me in,_

_let me out of here._

  


  


i shivered as i stood

and froze.

  


  


and felt myself sway

as fear overtook me.

  


  


_there's something in_

_the mirror._

_there's something in_

_the mirror_

_that wasn't there before._

  


  


a woman stared back at me.

  


  


her eyes were wide and 

blue and filled with fear

and they were the most 

beautiful eyes i'd ever 

seen.

  


  


my eyes

weren't blue.

my eyes

weren't beautiful.

  


  


but this woman,

she looked like me.

she looked like

me if i could ever be

in a magazine, 

my idyllic self,

if i were 

america's

queen bee.

  


  


she was flawless.

well, almost.

her makeup was smeared,

her cheeks stained

with tears.

  


  


but she was still 

the most beautiful

woman that i'd 

ever laid

eyes on.

  


  


i put my hand up to the glass.

i watched, paralyzed,

as she brought hers up too. 

  


  


i thought for a second

i could feel her pulse.

  


  


i'm sure she thought for a second

she could feel mine,

but as we both know, love,

that could never happen.

not after last summer.

not after the pool, the boy

in the red swim trunks,

the mistake.

  


  


not after i shattered my

entire world by finally wanting

to live in it.

  


  


she blinked.

a tear rolled down her

cheek. and then another,

and another, until her shoulders

were racked with sobs and all i 

could do was stand there and watch.

  


  


soon i noticed my cheeks were

damp too. i couldn't remember

being able to cry since the 

autumn your dad left and we

spent all day in bed, legs tangled,

my hand in your hair and you,

fast asleep on my chest,

your tears drying in

the still air.

  


  


i couldn't remember

the last time

i wasn't numb.

  


  


the last time

i didn't think myself

dumb.

  


  


it'd been a while

since i'd come up

for air.

  


  


as the words echoed

through my brain the woman

started to cry harder.

and i felt myself losing

control.

  


  


_why do you hate_ _me?_

_all i wanted was_

_to be loved._

_all i wanted was_

_to be enough,_

  


  


the woman whined, 

and her voice was hoarse,

but i hung on to every word.

and for a second she seemed

so small, and for a second she 

seemed so fragile.

i wanted to hug her

and hold her

and tell her everything

was okay.

  


  


because how could anyone

ever hate her?

she was

perfect

as she was.

  


  


but her expression hardened.

  


  


_the scars. the scars_

_that line your wrists,_

_the scars on your chest,_

_the scars on your mind._

_the bleeding lines_

_of every time you_

_thought you couldn't_

_be defined._

_why would_

_you_

_do_

_that?_

_to me?_

  


  


the woman and i,

we stared at each other

for a while. and i didn't

know what she was talking

about but soon i noticed the

demons, freed from beneath

her skin, and i shriveled

up and died inside,

i died inside a little.

  


  


any connection i felt to her

i felt had been diminished.

i didn't know this woman.

this stranger in the mirror.

i screamed and cried and pounded

and the glass, it soon did shatter;

but i couldn't escape her. 

still she stood

so pale and cold,

misunderstood.

  


  


_why? why, why, why?_

she cried.

and she cried all night

and i covered my eyes

and i covered my ears

and yet i couldn't

block

her out.

  


  


i didn't know this woman,

this stranger in the mirror.

or at least not anymore.

  


  


i woke up on the 

bathroom floor again.

  


  


i know what you

would've said if you 

had seen me.

  


  


my clothes were rumpled

and i smelled like death,

my head still pounding

from last night's tequila.

  


  


and the room is silent.

  


  


it is silent

and joyous

and _bitter_.

  


  


i look in the mirror

and there is nothing there.

there's nothing there

that was there before.

  


  


  



End file.
